Conquering the Barbarian Altanis: Session 122
Adventurers
| Character | Class | Description |
|---|---|---|
| Balarus | Fighter level 3 | An ex-woodsman, quite a crackshot with his bow. |
| Ignar Erikson | Fighter level 3 | Strong, tall, broad warrior with piercing blue eyes and a fashionable winged helm. |
| Tarkus the Promising | Cleric level 4 | Follower of Bachontoi, God of Red Wisdom. |
| Beorg the Gravedigger | Fighter level 3 | Inspired to adventure after burying several adventurers. |
| Ambros | Cleric level 6 | Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time. |
| Ignaeus | Elf level 4 | A slightly weathered looking elf with dull blonde hair and chiseled features. Seeks wealth and knowledge. |
Redleaves 5th, Spiritday
“Oh, here it is!”
Tarkus and Beorg led the adventurers back to the crypt south-east of Midway. Their stop at the village just a day ago was very short-lived, for they were not welcome at all. But that did not bother our heroes that much, since they only had one thing on their mind: dungeon delving.
Well, two things actually. Safe dungeon delving. Hence they opted to revisit a dungeon they've been to nearly a year ago, where they smashed everything open, crossed the trapped hallway, navigated the maze, liberated the wrongfully imprisoned king, and extracted their hard earned coin.
Perhaps there was something they had missed?
Rappelling down the pit revealed nothing much had changed. The stone slab was still pushed inwards, allowing anyone to enter and leave the crypt as they desire. Adventurers opted to avoid the chamber with laughing skulls and cleaving meathooks.
They explored the left wing of long mausoleum, which led them to a large circular chamber completely filled with skeletal remains of hundreds, if not thousands, creatures. Bone pile towered eight feet tall, and filled the full circumference of the chamber.
Without anything better to do, adventurers decide to clean up this mess by moving it from this chamber to another chamber. Couple of hours later and they found a hidden trapdoor with a chest. One thousand and five hundred gold pieces, as well as five nice gems, were their reward. Wise beyond their age, they closed the trapdoor so they are not slowed down as they explore the dungeon.
Next, they followed narrow exit out of the mausoleum with hundreds of crypts into the square chamber with obviously chaotic temple. Giving it a wide berth they walked down a long corridor slopping downwards. With each step they got deeper and deeper into purple fog.
“Wait! Allow me to move first and sweep the floor! Last time we were here we were attacked by blobs of burning flesh!” Beorg cautioned his friends and did what he said he would do.
Nothing assaulted them.
The mist was emanating from onyx black stone gates just at the end of the corridor. Purple haze seeped out from underneath and various barely visible orifices. To the adventurers' left were the steps leading into the trapped hallway, while to their right were large gates of pure white marble. Purple fog bounced off of an invisible barrier just in front of the white gates.
“Interesting...”
Balarus and Ignar, two mighty warriors, had to give it their all to barely open the gates. What a sight greeted them!
A square chamber, with walls, ceiling, and floor all made out of white marble. Facing them, in a semi-circle, were nine pedestals, all illuminated by a source-less spotlight. Upon central pedestal, which was broader and taller than the rest, a golden gavel inlaid with precious stone bands, rested.
Following several turns of careful inspection, one of the adventurers dare to approach the gavel. It was Ambros, Elder of Aniu. First he hovered his palm over the gavel. Others noticed how Ambros zoned out for a bit, lagging in his replies to their inquiries. Then everyone saw the cleric reach for the gavel.
Ambros's eyes turned upside-down, his fist clenched around the gavel, and he slumped to the ground, frothing from his mouth and trashing about. Without missing a beat all the adventurers jumped on him, grabbing him by the legs and arms so he doesn't hurt himself. Beorg tried to pry the gavel out of his hand with the dagger, but failed miserably.
How surprised Ambros was when he opened his eyes! Pinned down by his own colleagues and allies! He shook himself free and rolled to the side. Tarkus and Balarus addressed him in Lawful, asking him if he was well. Of course he was! The Ignar asked him if he could let go of the gavel. Of course he could! Would he? Of course he would! And Ambros put the gavel in his backpack.
“What god do you pray to?” Ignar continued his line of inquiry. Ambros gave a passionate sermon on timelessness of Aniu. Tarkus, vicar of Bachontoi, confirmed that this was indeed a prayer to Aniu and was as legitimate as far as he could tell.
“All is good then, I guess...” for rest of the expedition Ignar kept a close eye on Ambros.
As Ambros stepped out, and walked towards the purple fog it gave way as if some invisible force-field was around the cleric. With these interesting turn of events, the party decided to attempt the onyx gates.
Balarus and Ignar heaved as they tried again and again and again. They regretted their success as soon as it came. The duo pushed the black gates open, smashing them against the chamber walls. Before them was a whirlpool of raging purple mist flowing towards the central hole.
A horde of figures in various stages of decomposition were continuously trying to climb out of the hole. They pushed and pushed at the thick purple goo covering them, but were unable to cut through it. Moreover, the figures would frequently turn on each other, pulling the one on the top downwards.
The chamber was circular, with no visible ceiling. Purple fog rolled down the walls, joining the whirlpool. Most of it was sucked into the oozy portal, while the rest was fanned out into the corridor. An ancient leather canoe with a single paddle rested on the other side of the chamber, directly opposite from the entrance. Numerous runes and symbols covered its sides.
“Ambros, this might be your calling!” Ignar encouraged the cleric.
Indeed, Ambros was the sole adventurer who dared enter this accursed chamber. As before, the mist evaporated in his presence. Upon coming closer to the bottomless hole, figures were violently pulled down by horrible shapes that clawed their way to the top. They too were unable to pierce through the surface.
Without much more to do, Ambros stepped out.
Ignaeus came to the threshold. There he cast Read Magic and Read Languages. And then he dared to read the scriptures on the canoe. Fighting violent visions, the elf surmised that this is some sort of vessel that allows one to traverse the “river of lost souls,” whatever they might be.
“Let's close these doors, get our treasure, and get out of here!”
And so they did! Very promptly, if one might add.
The question is: will they return to squeeze the dry rag once again?
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